


He Bites.

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Minor Crutchie/Jack Kelly, Poor Jack, Spot Conlon is Bad at Feelings, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-04 08:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: Jack gets an unexpected visitor with a very unexpected problem. Why is he not surprised when it's Racetrack's fault?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is silly, but embarrassing and inconveniencing Spot is very important to me. SO:

It was unusual to get any sort of unannounced visitors from Brooklyn, which is why Jack noticed a very haggard looking Hotshot standing in the middle of the lodging house with a blanket wrapped around some sort of bundle right away. 

When he saw Jack he breathed a sigh of relief and marched right over to him. “This is Racetrack’s fault and Racer is your fault, so here. Get him killed and I rip your throat out.” 

“Wha-“ Before he could finish Hotshot shoved the bundle into his arms and ran out the door. After a horrifying second Jack realized that whatever was in there was very much alive. 

“Racetrack what did you do?” He carefully set it down and prayed it somehow wasn’t a kid. It had to be. That moron had gotten some girl in Brooklyn pregnant and now-

He was almost thankful when a pair of buckteeth sunk into his hand. 

“Mother-“ Jack reeled back only to have a tremendous rabbit jump out of the blanket and charge directly at him. “What the hell?” 

The noise seemed to attract a small crowd. 

“Jack?” Davey came around the corner with Elmer and Racetrack in tow. “Is that a rabbit?” 

Elmer gave a small gasp and ran over. “It’s a Flemish Giant. My uncle owns a few of these.” He gently pet the top of its head. Jack couldn’t help but be pissed that the thing allowed it. “They’re delicious.”

The rabbit let out a vicious growl and pulled away.

He drew his hand back quickly. “They’re also usually a lot calmer.”

“Yeah well, maybe it’s in heat or something.” Jack checked out the blood on his hand and sighed. 

The rabbit practically snarled at him.

“Maybe. More importantly, why is it here?” Davey raised an eyebrow.

“The hell should I know? Hotshot said it was Race’s fault and took off.” Jack gestured towards the door.

Racetrack visibly paled. “Oh fuck.” He hurried over to the rabbit and lifted it up as it growled at him. “I’m actually sorry man. I didn’t…Shit.” Once in his arms the rabbit rubbed his chin on Racetrack’s arm while still making angry little noises.

“Why are you apologizing to a rabbit?” Jack can’t remember the last time Racetrack actually apologized without being told he should.

“Because it’s Spot.” He said simply.

Jack stared for a moment before bursting into laughter. The others did as well. 

“Very funny, what’s up with the rabbit?” Davey asked.

“It’s Spot.” His face was the picture of seriousness. 

“Racetrack I-“ When Jack took a step closer the rabbit proceeded to try and spring from Racetrack’s arms. Presumably lunging for his throat. “…You ain’t playin are you? Why the hell is he a rabbit?”

“There was this lady down by the docks sellin’ stuff about two days ago. She said they was potions and I thought it was funny but Spot took her serious for some reason and wouldn’t even talk to her.” He glanced away. “So I uh, I bought somethin’ and dared him to drink it.”

“And he was dumb enough to?” Jack did his best not to flinch as he was growled at. 

“Well he didn’t wanna be a chicken about it and the lady promised it wouldn’t kill him.” Race explained.

“Somehow that ain’t comforting.” Jack had seen Racetrack talk people into ridiculous stunts before; he was actually pretty good at it.

“It had hearts on the bottle and everything! I thought it was just liquor. Then nothin’ seemed to happen.” He readjusted the ra-Spot. “Well I guess it just wasn’t fast actin’.”

“Hearts? Was it a love potion or something?” Davey looked downright concerned. What kind of love potion would turn you into a rodent?

“Wait are we just gonna roll with this? Since when are potions a thing?” Since when would Davey believe this? Since when was Jack believing this?

“Well there aren’t any witches in Manhattan because it’s illegal but Brooklyn kept the practice legal as part of them agreeing to join the city.” Davey explained.

Jack stared wide-eyed. “….the hell?”

“Did you really think that everything that went down on Coney Island was normal? Pretty much everything magic in the state comes out of Brooklyn. It’s their main export.” He continued.

“How the hell do you even know that?” Jack sighed, why did he even doubt any of this? His life was already so goddamned weird that somehow missing outright witchcraft was only a drop in the bucket.

“My mother grew up there.” He shrugged. Spot’s ears twitched and he looked over. “She moved to Manhattan after she got married.” Spot made a huffy noise and went back to looking uninterested.

“Do you think she’s got any way of fixin’ this?” Racetrack had the decency to look sheepish as he scratched the rabbit behind the ears. 

“I think your best shot is the woman you bought it from.” Davey shrugged.

“Or hoping it wears off.” Elmer added.

“Hoping?” Race winced as another growl emanated from the rabbit.

“Well it sounds like all she did was promise it wouldn’t kill him. He’s not dead.” Elmer didn’t realize that he absolutely wasn’t helping.

“He can’t be stuck like this. He’ll kill me. Everyone in Brooklyn will kill me.” Racetrack sat Spot back down on the table in a panic. “How do we fix you?”

He stomped his back feet with a loud thumping noise. 

“I don’t think he can answer ya.” Jack couldn’t believe he was dealing with this.

“Two stomps for no one for yes?” Elmer offered.

“Perfect! Spot can ya understand us?” Racetrack asked.

There was a singular thumping noise.

“Are you gonna soak me?” Ha asked and gently tugged on one of the bunny ears to try and be playful. 

Jack sighed. “Racetrack ask something more important.” 

There was a more forceful thump as Spot slammed his feet into the table and growled. 

“He used both feet so I’m gonna say that’s a no.” He laughed nervously.

Spot lunged forward and bit down on his sleeve. 

“See? Didn’t even take off a finger!” Racetrack carefully scratched the top of his head.

The rabbit growled and stomped twice. 

“Okay okay. Do you know how ta fix this?” He asked.

No response.

“Spot?” Racetrack sounded worried, it was something Jack quietly realized he only really heard in fall when kids started to catch the yearly bug that went around.

He stomped once, still biting down on the sleeve. 

His eyes lit up with excitement. “How?”

“It’s gotta be yes or no.” Jack reminded. “You need to guess.” 

“Will it wear off?” Elmer asked.

The rabbit made two quick thumps. 

“Shit.” Racetrack sighed and carefully tugged his shirt away.

“Lets try narrowing it down.” Davey tried not to grin as he bent slightly to address the rabbit. “Is it something that’s used in fairytales?”

Spot growled as he stomped out a yes. 

“There are plenty of curses and people getting turned into animals in stories, it might have a grain of truth in it. Is it something we would know?” Davey was in full investigation mode.

Yes.

“Snow White?” Elmer asked.

No.

Davey thought for a moment. “Beauty and the Beast?” 

A noticeably hesitant no.

“So maybe it’s similar?” Davey snapped his fingers when he put two and two together. “Maybe it’s like that newer version of the Frog Prince?” 

“Newer version?” Jack raised an eyebrow. 

“Well she didn’t kiss the frog to make it a prince in the original story, originally-“ Davey started to explain.

Jack almost hated to interrupt him. “We can have a literature lesson later, so what about that one?” 

The rabbit, Spot. The Spot rabbit, looked at the four of them and seemed to contemplate his answer. His ears laid back flat and he stopped moving entirely before hopping off the counter and making a break for the door.

“Catch him!” Racetrack took off after him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Davey sighed.

They couldn’t catch up to him but thankfully the door out to the street was closed. Spot was gnawing and scratching on the corner of the door when Jack managed to grab him. Somehow he wasn’t expecting the scream. He didn’t even think rabbits could scream.

“One of you take this jackass.” He practically tossed him into Racetrack’s arms. 

Mercifully, the screaming stopped right away. It just seemed to be Jack he couldn’t stand.

“What the hell is your problem Conlon?” Jack ought to tie those big stupid ears into a knot.

“He probably decided he’d rather be a rabbit forever than risk kissin’ you.” Racetrack laughed and Spot made a little noise in what was likely agreement. 

“Feelin’s just about mutual. So how are we gonna do this? Just pass him around?” He ignored the hateful growls from the rabbit formerly known as the king of brooklyn. 

“Well usually it’s royalty or some fair maiden in stories.” Davey reminded them.

“We’re more likely to find royalty.” Racetrack snorted. 

Jack glanced over to Davey with a grin. “So how was it royalty gets that way?”

“Well at some point someone claims themselves to be a king or queen and everyone else rolls with it.” Davey continued. “In other-oh.” 

They both turned to look at Racetrack and if the frantic attempts to run from Spot were any indication he caught on to their plans for the self-titled King of New York already. 

“Wait.” Racetrack’s face quickly went red. “No way. He’ll kick my ass even harder if it works!” 

“Racetrack-“ Davey started.

“He’ll bite my tongue off if it don’t!” He looked down at the rabbit and then up at them repeatedly.

“Jesus we’re askin ya to kiss him not make out with him.” Jack laughed knowing Racetrack probably wasn’t wrong.

“It’s a medical thing. Don’t worry about it.” Davey assured him. “We won’t say anything.” 

Racetrack lifted Spot and stared at him. “This ain’t gonna work…” He bit his lip. “I guess it won’t hurt to try.”

He gets an ear-twitch in response. 

Racetrack sighed and started to head to the stairwell. 

“Where you goin’?” Jack watched as Racetrack tried to balance the rabbit in one arm.

“Penthouse, if I’m kissin’ a rodent might as well pretend it’s romantic.” He grinned brightly.

Jack snorted in laughter even though he was decently sure Race just wanted to hide. 

They wait a minute for him. Then five. Then ten. 

“You don’t think Spot tossed him off the building did you?” Davey eventually asked. 

Jack paused. “Wait here.” He climbed up to the roof and had to resist the urge to whistle.

Racetrack was practically lying on top of a mostly human Spot. Mostly human as he has these big dumb bunny ears and, from what he can see at that angle, Jack guessed a tail. Racetrack tugged on them as he kissed him, eliciting a contented sigh from the former rabbit.

Hateful bastard would have taken Jack’s fingers off if he’d tried that. 

When Racetrack trailed his lips to Spot’s neck his arms seemed to give out from under him and he fell back against the rooftop. Judging by how funny Racetrack found it and how red Spot went it was probably some rabbit thing that wasn’t out of his system yet. 

Jack didn’t mean to laugh but it was just too funny to see the leader of some of the toughest newsies around with bunny ears. He honestly hope they never wore off.

Almost immediately Spot’s ears were flattened back and he slammed his foot into the rooftop as he scrambled to sit up. “Whose there?” He demanded. His eyes were wide but nearly every muscle in his body was on a hair trigger ready to soak whoever had seen them.

“Jack probably.” Racetrack was a lot calmer about the whole thing. 

“Jack indeed.” He climbed up to be a bit more visible. “Congrats and all but I gotta warn you Race, he bites.” 

One of Spot’s ears perked up out of curiosity. Jack hadn’t exactly advertised that the general rule on relationships at the lodging house was ‘don’t get caught by anyone but us’ so he’d likely expected some sort of fallout due to being caught with another guy. 

“Hot.” Racetrack grinned as Spot immediately hit him in the shoulder. 

“Idiot.” Spot whispered, probably not wanting to let Racetrack joke himself into more trouble.

He was obviously still nervous and Jack felt bad enough to give the grouchy bastard a break. “Just clear out before sunset. Crutchie and I have plans for tonight.” 

“Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to sleep somewhere where they make less noise than the two a you. Like the bowery.” Racetrack stuck his tongue out and Spot seemed to relax. Not completely, but he didn't seem like he was about combust anymore.

“Oh? Not Brooklyn?” Jack raised an eyebrow and grinned. 

“I do have ta sleep at some point.” Race winked.

“Yeah well, have fun with bunny boy. I’ll go tell the others neither of you are dead.” 

Surprisingly, it was Spot that spoke up. “…Thanks.” He didn't specify what he was thanking Jack for but Jack suspected it wasn't exactly for not letting Elmer cook him.

Jack couldn’t resist, he knows he’ll get his ass kicked for it later but it was too tempting. “No problem, bunny boy.”

He ducked back inside just in time to avoid the bottle Spot grabbed to fling at him as Racetrack fell over laughing.


	2. >:3c

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot still has a few side effects and temptation gets to be too much for Racetrack.

Spot was infuriated. Not with Racetrack. Not with the old woman. He was infuriated with himself. 

He couldn’t sleep in peace anymore. He just felt…unsafe in his bed. It was ridiculous, nothing was going to kill him, but it was still enough to keep him up. 

To even be able to approach sleep he had to pull his threadbare sheets over his head and all but burrow under his own pillow. 

Why though? The stupid ears were gone and so was the damn tail. If he were really looking he’d swear that his front teeth were a touch bigger but he was human again. Human enough that he shouldn’t feel the need to make a damn nest. 

It’s not like he couldn’t accommodate it. Hell, if he asked Hotshot the guy would give him the shirt off his back. The stress of trying to run things apparently really got to the poor guy and now he was completely dedicated to keeping Spot in top condition so he never has to do it again. 

Spot had tried to warn him but it was a hard to communicate. 

Hotshot’s laugh dragged him out of his daze. “Racetrack you dumb bastard!” 

“He said he had to know.” A sigh could be heard, Jack Kelly? Why the hell was he in Brooklyn?

Spot hurried down the rickety steps to find a very put out looking Kelly standing in the middle of the Brooklyn lodging house with a stupid looking orange cat. Well, maybe it wasn’t stupid looking. That was probably just because Spot knew who it actually was. 

Racetrack leaned up and smacked at Jack’s hat playfully. Really? At least Spot had tried to keep his dignity about it. 

When Racetrack turned to look at him he felt a familiar jolt. The same kind he got when he woke up feeling exposed. Staring into those slit-like pupils had him afraid. 

“Hey B-“ Jack stopped himself from using that stupid nickname. “Spot. Would you mind fixin’ him?”

Spot crossed his arms and did his best to shake off the ridiculous feeling. This wasn’t some random predator that might smell what’s left of rabbit on him and decide to attack. This was Antonio Racetrack Higgins, his moron. “Yes.” 

“What?” Jack’s jaw dropped as Racetrack let out a horrified meow.

“If I fix it he won’t learn.” He resisted the urge to tap his foot in irritation.

“He’s gotta sell I…” Jack sighed. “He ain’t gonna learn either way.” 

“He’ll learn.” Spot walked over and grabbed Racetrack by the scruff of the neck. “Two days, at least.”

Racetrack gave him these big sad eyes. 

“At least.” He reiterated. 

He smacked at Spot forcing Spot to drop him. The moment he hit the ground he took off. 

“Good luck poutin’ when you look like that.” Spot knew it was petty to enjoy this. 

“It’s probably for the best.” Jack reached into his pocket to pull out a mouse. It was a sandy brown color and much cuter than any of the mice in the city. “He spiked Crutchie and Finch as well. Finch flew the hell off.” 

On closer inspection Spot could see that the little mouse had a messed up back leg. His heart ached for the guy. It had to be rough to be so small and around a cat no less.

“Why would he spike ‘em?” Usually Racetrack had at least some sense.

“Said something about it taking too long.” A faint dusting of color spread over Jack’s cheeks. “Not sure what he meant by that.”

Spot huffed and tapped his foot. “Yeah you are.” 

“W-well I-“

“Wait here.” Spot turned and headed back to his room. When he came back he had a bundled up scarf in hand. “This should make him feel safer until ya grow a set.”

“Uh, thanks.” Jack took it and seemed a bit surprised when his friend burrowed into it right away. 

“Didn’t do it for you but sure.”

Jack grinned and preemptively took a step back. “Ah, so you got a soft spot?”

“I’m gonna tear your throat out with my teeth.” He deadpanned. The only reason he didn’t was the squeak of protest from Crutchie.

“On that note, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Good luck Racetrack!” Jack quickly backed out of the lodging house and tipped his hat before taking off. 

The door was barely shut before Hotshot broke out into snickering. “You do have to admit that was-“

“Shut up.” Spot interrupted.

Hotshot wasn’t put off in the slightest. “Though I guess it’s us that got the soft spot. Since you-“

“I know where you sleep.” He all but growled.

He held his hands up in surrender and tried not to grin.

“So what are we gonna do with Racer?” Kenny asked.

“Same thing you did with me.” Spot smiled. “Your best. He needs to know that magic ain’t a game.”

There was an audible gasp from the bunkroom. “A kitty!”

Spot’s grin became something downright wicked as a girl of at most eight came running into the room holding Racetrack close to her chest and letting his legs dangle. He gently tried to push himself away but to no avail. 

“I found a kitty! Are we keepin’ him?” The girl sounded ecstatic. 

“Of course Princess.” As he spoke Racetrack’s eyes widened in pure horror and it was enough that Spot couldn’t tell if he wanted to burst out laughing or save him right then and there. “But he ain’t a kitty. That’s Racetrack.”

The girl hugged him a little tighter. “But what about his visits? The other Manhattan boys are gross.”

Spot had to bite his lip to keep from giggling at the odd mix of insult and pride that seemed to be playing on Racetrack’s face. “They is gross. But Race will be Race again soon. You just gotta get in your kitty time now. I’m sure Racetrack will be happy to play.” 

“Okay!” She turned and ran towards the others. 

As she did Racetrack managed to lean over her shoulder and send Spot a cold glare.

Spot just shrugged in return. 

He set about his day, it was Sunday so while the other kids were out enjoying their time off Spot stayed behind to try and make sure everything was a bare minimum of decent. Washing sheets and checking for lice, making sure there wasn’t any food left out to attract rats, and trying to figure out what to do with clothes that were too tattered to wear without throwing them out. You know, things every kid is excited to do on their one day off. It wasn’t all-bad though, every few minutes he heard delighted giggles around the lodging house. It was occasionally followed with a meow of some kind.

It was nearly dinner by the time he even saw Racetrack again. 

Kenny poked his head in while he was trying to figure out what to make. “Spot, have you seen Racer? Princess lost sight of him after the hat incident.”

“Hat incident?” He narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what Kenny was talking about. 

“The little ones decided to dress him up, they got about as far as a hat before he lost it and took off.” 

“I ain’t seen him. He’ll show back up once he smells food.” One thing that probably wouldn’t change no matter his form. 

“Alright,” He then added. “What are we havin’?”

“I don’t know!” Spot waved him away. “Go make yourself useful somewhere.” 

“Ah, pasta then.” Kenny nodded and turned to leave. 

Not long after Kenny left Spot felt something sharp sink into the back of his leg. His first instinct was to cry out and try to get the thing off him but no sound would come. He couldn’t even move. All he could do was feel his heart beating out of his chest and hope that whatever this thing was it was quick about it.

When it climbed to his shoulder he somehow expected a bite to the neck, not a confused trilling meow. 

“T-Tony!” He gasped out as he realized just what had ‘attacked’ him. 

Fucking hell.

He pried him off his shoulder and held him out at arms length as he caught his breath. To his credit Racetrack looked downright worried. 

“I can’t…ya can’t.” He took a deep breath. “I ain’t a hundred percent, okay?” 

Admitting it felt heavy, dangerous even. Acknowledging weakness wasn’t something he allowed himself, it made it something real. Yet it was different with Racetrack, wasn’t it? He trusted Racetrack with everything, even his name. 

His name. Spot blushed when it hit him that he’d called Racetrack ‘Tony’. He’d thought about trying it but it was an intimacy that went way beyond anything they could get up to in the bedroom. Or at least that’s what it felt like. 

Racetrack purred loudly. 

“Yeah, you too asshole.” He scratched Race behind the ear. “Still not changing you back yet.” 

The purring halted and paw pads connected with his face. Spot had no choice but to feign insult. 

“Did you just smack me? You do want to be turned back don’t you?” It was hard to keep a straight face, especially when Racetrack meowed in response. 

“Well, you have done a good job keeping Princess out of trouble.” He pretended to be on the fence. “And I don’t exactly know what to make for dinner.” 

He quickly pressed his lips to Racetrack’s little muzzle while the cat still seemed to trying to figure out what was going on. 

The transformation crept up on them as before. Soon he could feel Racetrack’s lips against his and a hand on his cheek. Spot grinned when he felt a tail curl around his legs, at least he wasn’t the only one. 

“You didn’t think I’d actually leave you stuck did you?” He grinned. 

Racetrack pulled back just enough to see him. “You’re a jackass.” His orange tabby cat ears twitched.

“You’re the one using magic like a toy.”

“Hmm,” The sound had an almost purr-like quality. “True. So, what did you mean by ‘not a hundred percent’?”

Spot was tempted to lie, then again Racetrack would absolutely see through it at this point. “There’s still some stuff… Rabbit stuff.” He wanted to drop dead. “Something with claws ‘n stuff jumped me and my brain shut down.”

“Shit, sorry.” His ears flattened as he apologized. 

“Ain’t your fault.” He laughed bitterly. “You should hear what I come up with when I’m tryin’ to sleep and it’s not enough like a damn nest.” 

“Maybe you just need a lookout.” Racetrack moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Spot’s waist.

That might actually help. “You offerin?”

“Well you did say two days.” Race stared over his shoulder as the water slowly came to a boil.

“At least.” Spot added.

“At least.” Racetrack started to kiss at his neck. When his hands crept lower Spot smacked them with the closest wooden spoon. “Fucker!” He hissed out. 

“I gotta feed these idiots or they won’t eat.” He refused to be distracted just yet.

“Maybe I’m hungry too.” Racetrack nipped at his ear.

“Don’t make me end you.” Spot held the spoon out as a weapon. 

“Oh? Do your worst.” His tone was overly flirtatious, obvious he was thinking of a different connotation to his threat.

Spot grinned. “…Princess! I found the kitty!”

Racetrack groaned and hid his face in Spot’s shoulder. “Monster.” 

“You asked for it.” Spot bit his lip to keep from laughing when a blur in pigtails came running in and attached herself to Racetrack’s leg. 

“Racetrack you’se got a tail!” She pointed out with glee.

“And he’s goin’ to take that tail out into the living room while I make dinner.” He pushed the two towards the door. “Have fun.” 

The girl squealed in excitement when Racetrack lifted her up onto his shoulders. “Sir yes sir!” He saluted before hurrying off. 

They ended up having pasta for the third time that week but it was still great. 

Even better was the first night of decent sleep Spot had had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie is an aNGEL-  
> https://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/newpix/2018/05/21/09/4C7D7AC600000578-0-image-a-19_1526891850917.jpg
> 
> Racetrack is a leggy boi-  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4a/1f/d1/4a1fd131ea4a59decc0206fd4275f666.jpg
> 
> Finch is 3oz of fury -  
> https://i.pinimg.com/236x/c2/93/cd/c293cd6790bee2524e5ce8627b0a4731--mad-angry-birds.jpg

**Author's Note:**

> some bunny body language:  
> Rubbing your chin on something/someone-MINE.  
> Thumping/thamping-Fuck you, you suck/Danger  
> Growling- Fuck you part 2.  
> Ears back- Fear  
> ScreaMing- Abject terror/pure fury  
> Falling/flopping over-Bliss
> 
> Also shoutout to Hotshot for trying to figure this out for TWO DAYS before deciding that he can't both look after Brooklyn and his Bunny Boss. And to Jack for somehow missing the fact that magic is legit a thing and it's not even hidden that well.


End file.
